


Lance vs the Homo Sapiens Agenda

by DerpmasterG



Category: Love Simon (2018), Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda - Becky Albertalli, Voltron: Defender of the Universe (1984), Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Adolescent Sexuality, Bisexual Character, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Bisexual Male Character, Bisexual Shiro (Voltron), Bisexuality, F/M, Gay, Gay Keith (Voltron), Gay Lance (Voltron), Gay Male Character, M/M, Sexuality Crisis
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2019-04-08 18:17:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14111220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DerpmasterG/pseuds/DerpmasterG
Summary: In a small, conservative town, seventeen year old, not-so-openly gay Lance struggles to find his true identity in the shit hole that is high school.  His secret nearly gets revealed when his private emails to Red, another not-so-openly gay teen at Altea High, falls into the wrong hands.  Now, he has to set the blackmailer up with friend's friend or risk his sexual identity being revealed to the whole universe (okay, maybe just the school, but basically the entire universe) and losing his beloved friendship with his maybe, kind of, secret boyfriend Red.Or, a Love, Simon/Simon vs the Homo Sapiens Agenda Klance AU that absolutely needed to be written.





	1. The Rude Awakening

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first of many more chapters to come! If you saw Love Simon or read the book, I hope you enjoy this AU. If not, this can be read on it's own as the everyday fanfic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first of many more chapters to come! If you saw Love Simon or read the book, I hope you enjoy this AU. If not, this can be read on it's own as the everyday fanfic without any prior knowledge.

In all his life, Lance would’ve never thought he would be blackmailed.  Well, considering his life only consisted of 17 mediocre years so far, he doesn’t think that last statement has much weight to it.  But still.

His eyebrow twitches as he pulls the notebooks out of his locker and into his backpack, trying to physically distance himself from the asshat next to him as fast as humanly possible.  

“It’s not that hard to understand, really,” Lotor tells him as he tries his best to nonchalantly lean against the tan colored lockers, “I just need you to help me hook up with Allura.”

Lotor, as charming as he looks at first glance, was the physical manifestation of a migraine.  Not really too popular but not too dorky either, Lotor stood exactly in the middle of the high school totem pole.  The guy made it his personal goal to compete with Lance for the position of class clown ever since the 5th grade. They were juniors in high school now, seriously.  They weren't even supposed to be in the same grade, honestly!  It was only because Lotor had a birthday that fell in exactly on the school district's first day of classes, which meant that Lotor had a 50/50 shot of being in Lance's class or the senior class above them.  One could say the unfortunate luck Lotor had in first grade foreshadowed the future, being in the situation they were in right now. 

“Why the hell would I do that?”  Lance rolls his eyes, tossing his English textbook into his backpack with more force than probably necessary.

“Because I know about your emails.”

Lance freezes, his blood running cold as his eyes flash up to Lotor.  He never thought he could muster up such a strong urge to punch someone before.  He averts his gaze to the other students roaming the halls, but luckily everyone else was so busy fleeing to the cafeteria for lunch break they couldn’t spare any second glances over to the two of them.  

Trying to act as casual as he could, Lance scoffs as he closes his locker, “What are you even on about?”

It’s Lotor's turn as he rolls his eyes, “Between you and Red?  Honestly, you should log out of the library’s computers after using them if you’re so intent on emailing your gay boyfriend at school.”

The heat rushes to Lance’s cheeks, whether through embarrassment or rage he doesn’t know, but the next thing he does is grab Lotor’s arm and drags him into the nearest bathroom.  Lotor doesn’t seem surprised, the little fuck lets himself be pulled along like they were friends or something. When the door closes behind him, Lance lets go of now-wrinkled fabric to look through the stalls for any lingering boys.  Lance thanks the gods that it’s only the two of them. Or maybe, he should curse the gods for putting him in this position in the first place.

“How much did you read?”  Lance asks, the aggression clear in his voice and posture with his clenched fists.

“Enough.”  Lotor answers, picking underneath his nails, as if this was just another conversation between them about annoying class assignments.  “Look, what I’m trying to say here is, if you hook me up with your new BFF Allura for the winter dance, I’ll keep you and your boyfriend’s emails a secret from the entire school.”

The thought of Lotor reading his emails, his _personal_ emails that weren’t meant for anyone’s eyes except the recipient, made his blood _boil._ Admittedly, he shouldn’t have been so careless as to forget to log out of his account, but still.  Who just reads other people’s emails in the first place? Why couldn’t Lotor be a normal person and simply log out?

It takes everything in Lance’s power not to close the few feet of distance between him and Lotor and start the biggest fight the school’s ever seen.  Right here, in the boy’s bathroom, during lunch break. But then again, he’s more classy than that. Instead, Lance clears his throat and says, “Allura’s not even one of my best friends.”

Lotor’s hands move through the air as he speaks, “She’s friends with Shiro, who’s kind of friends with you.  That’s close enough.”

It was true that Allura, who moved to Altea High last year as a junior, was friends with Shiro.  He couldn’t argue with that. But honestly, he and Shiro haven’t been as close as they used to be.  Lance has been living on the same street as Shiro for years, and they were pretty close as kids. Shiro had played with Lance and his brothers when his own parents were away on business trips or when his younger brother was off playing with other neighborhood kids instead of his own sibling.  The Cuban family had accepted Shiro as one of their own with ease. But, when school started and Shiro went into the first grade a year before Lance did, the distancing happened.

It wasn’t that they had any fights or arguments, but rather Shiro was a year ahead of him because of his age, and naturally the two drifted apart from childhood best friends to just casual buddies.  Lance found his current two best friends when he joined first grade, which were probably waiting for him at lunch. Where he _should_ be right now, instead of being blackmailed by this worthless excuse of a blackmailer in front of him.  

“Even if I did manage to bring you up in conversation, there’s no chance of Allura going out with you.”  Lance spits out, knowing he was more than accurate in his prediction. The winter Snowball dance was months away, and even this far in the future, he already knew Allura would choose Shiro to go with.  If Shiro ever mustered up enough guts to ask, that is.

“Well, it’s _your_ job to change that, isn’t it?”  The bastard had the nerve to _smirk_ at Lance as he turned towards the door.  Lotor looks at Lance with one hand on the door knob, “Just mention me to her, at least, _hips don’t lie 28._ ”  And with that, he goes into crowd of students in the halls and leaves Lance alone.

Lance lets out a relieved sigh he didn’t know he was holding, his breath and body shaking as he steadies himself by placing two hands on the sink.  The world seems to be spinning as he looks down at the floor’s dirty black and white tiles. Yes, his secret email address was _hipsdontlie28@gmail.com_ _._  It was ridiculous, he knew, but it was meant to be a throwaway email to sign up for useless websites online.  Somehow, it ended up being the email he used to message Red, but either way, it wasn’t meant for someone like _Lotor_  to find.  

Although he barely talked to Shiro anymore, he knew he could easily jump back into his life with ease.  He hated to be the one to break up the high school’s most popular couple-but-not-really, but he couldn’t let his secret be put out to the rest of the world.  Not yet. He wasn’t ready.

So with a determined mind and a concentrated rage towards a certain asshole, Lance exits the boys bathroom with a raised head and clenched fists.

.

.

.

When he gets to the cafeteria, the food lines are long enough to reach the exit and the tables are already filled to the brim with students stuffing their mouths with food.  However late he shows up though, he always knows he would find an open seat next to his friends. He spots a particularly wild case of bedhead at a table right by the windows and makes a beeline for it.  Lance sits down, ruffling his best friend’s hair in the process.

“Lance!  Stop it,”  Pidge grumbles with a mouthful of cafeteria pizza, her hands going up to pat the brown strands down. It didn’t help at all, since the locks went back to their wild shape almost immediately afterwards.  “You know I hate it when you do that.”

Lance laughs, fistbumping with Hunk from across their round table.  “You love me anyway,” he replies, giving Pidge a light, friendly nudge on the shoulder, the fondness in his eyes showing.  

Pidge rolls her eyes, but Lance doesn’t miss the small smile on her lips.

“So,” Hunk says, “what took you so long?  Did you get lost trying to follow that girl from calculus to get her number?”

Oh. Right.  His mood sinks as he remembers his chat with Lotor just minutes before, a slight frown already beginning to form on his previously smiling lips.  Pidge sucks a breath through her teeth, “Yikes. I’m guessing it didn’t go well?”

He never appreciated his little bedhead friend more than he did right then.  Lance tries his best to fake a laugh, his smile coming back as he dramatically throws his lanky arms across the table over to Hunk.  “Pidge! How did you know?! I don’t even get why she _wouldn’t_ want to talk to a guy like me.  I’m Lance freaking Mcclain!”

“Oh, yeah.  That _totally_ explains it.” Hunk deadpans, taking a bite of his gluten-free sandwich.  The poor guy made it his mission to pack his lunch every day, claiming the school’s lunches were as healthy as eating five pounds of sugar on a daily basis.  His long list of allergies might have also influenced his meal choices.

“Aren’t you gonna eat lunch?” Pidge asks him, finishing the rest of her pizza with one bite.  She points at the ever growing line of students stood against the wall waiting for mediocre cafeteria food.  

Still sprawled over their table, Lance shakes his head, bringing the back of his hand up to his forehead.  He tries his best to sound as wise as he can as a high school junior, “Heartbreak kills your appetite, my little Pidgeon. You’ll understand one day.”

Pidge scoffs as she wipes her mouth with a napkin and Hunk lets out a loud chuckle, and with the bustling high schoolers around him in a busy cafeteria, Lance can almost forget the looming threat of blackmail for the next hour.

.

.

.

As soon as he makes it home from school, Lance gets to the laptop perched on top of his desk as fast as his long legs will take him.  He accidentally ignores his younger brothers’ greetings as he takes two at a time up the stairs, but as soon as his laptop is powered on, he yells out a “Honey I’m hooooommmmmmeee” through his closed bedroom door.  He cracks a smile when he hears his brothers laugh downstairs. His smile widens when he opens his email to find a message from Red.

* * *

 

 _To:_ _hipsdontlie28@gmail.com_

 _From:_ _redlion1023@gmail.com_

_September 3rd, 2018  11:34PM_

_Subject:  The Realization?_

_You know how some old, straight married couples say, “I looked at him, and I just knew.  It was love at first sight.” I call complete and utter bullshit on that. It’s the total opposite for gay people.  First it’s just hesitant, confused thoughts. Then it’s nervous overthinking and denial. And then, if the guy has guts, he admits his sexuality to himself and tells it to the world.  Finally, after all of that, he might find someone to date. Though, I highly doubt some guys even get past the second stage._

_I’m pretty sure I’m in the middle of the third stage, where I’ve admitted it to myself but still haven’t had enough balls to tell anyone yet.  Anyone but you, that is. But I’ve got to say, it gets pretty damn difficult to be a closeted gay when there’s a locker room full of shirtless guys during PE.  It should be illegal for them to flaunt their chest like that so casually. I hope maybe one day I’ll actually find enough courage to come out, but until then, I’ll have to manage with just looking._

_Groaning internally,_

_Red._

* * *

Lance can barely contain his chuckle as he reads, his fingers beginning to type the moment after he reads the last word of the email.

* * *

 _To:_ _redlion1023@gmail.com_

 _From:_ _hipsdontlie28@gmail.com_

_September 4th, 2018 3:30PM_

_Subject:  Re: The Realization?_

_I totally get you there.  I mean, really, life must be so hard for people who don’t even acknowledge their feelings.  You’re a step ahead of them, Red!! I think I’m at the same stage you are, just barely. I owe you credit for most of it, though.  I don’t think I would have ever come to terms with my ultra gayness if it wasn’t for you. So, thanks for that._

_As for the shirtless guys, I totally think it should be illegal for them to do THAT.  I mean, seriously, it’s like temping a dog with a bone but never actually giving it to them.  That’s just rude, don’t you think?_

_I don’t even know why we need to Come Out anyway.  Why is being straight the default? It’s sooooo unfair.  I’d like to see a straight white boy at his dinner table one day, all nervous and sweaty, saying to his parents “Mom, Dad, I know you might not like this… but… I’m a heterosexual.”  And the parents burst into tears because oh HOW can THEIR son like GIRLS?!_

_Exasperated and Annoyed,_

_Blue_

* * *

 

After clicking send, Lance leans back into his desk chair and rereads Red’s email.  He knew it was, like, probably the lamest thing about him, but he couldn’t help it. His Red, so sarcastic but relatable, so formal yet at ease, and so _perfect._

They’d started talking sometime mid-summer, when Lance had far too many days out in the sun by the beach.  Feeling defeated and sunburnt, he had gone back into his stuffy bedroom to aimlessly look through social media on his laptop.  The school’s twitter page had announced that they had created an anonymous Tumblr blog. Lance was pretty sure it was meant to allow people to give their own, honest input to the student council members, but somehow it turned into the school’s main gossip blog.  You could never really tell if any of the posts on it were true, but even if it wasn’t, everyone ended up talking about it anyway.

The whole week that Lance was forced to stay inside by his mom - _“Do you want your skin to age well or not?!”_ \- he scrolled through the blog at least once every hour for any, _any_ exciting news.  

One day, he stopped his scrolling to read a particular post that read “ **_Some people are gay.  Get over it, Becky._ ** ”

The comment made Lance crack a smile.  He didn’t even know which part of it he found more hilarious, the fact that the post was so deadpanned, or that there wasn’t even a single girl he knew of named Becky in school.  The simplicity of the post and everything it stood for compelled him to make a post of his own.

“ **_Jesus, Becky, it’s almost like you live in a small, conservative town or something._ ** ”

Which was, more or less, true.  In a town with the elderly outnumbering anyone under 60 seven to one, it was hard to say Altea was on the progressive side.  

He had left his spam email tagged at the end of the post, just barely hoping that the original poster would see it and respond back to him.  Sure enough, he found an email waiting for him in his inbox the next day. The rest, as they say, was history.

Except, for Lance, it really didn’t even start yet.  He still doesn’t know who this mystery guy is or anything about his appearance.  The only thing Lance knows about Red is that he’s a guy, goes to his school, and is insanely hot.  Okay, so maybe the last thing wasn’t _officially_ confirmed.  But by the high levels of amusement he gets from Red’s emails, Lance would bet money on Red’s attractiveness.

They had become so close over the past weeks, bonding over their closeted sexuality and hatred of most people at Altea High.  And perhaps, maybe, just maybe, Lance had formed a little tiny crush. It was dumb, he knew, to have a crush towards an internet friend you don’t even know the name of.  But in a way, it was sort of beautiful and poetic or some shit.

Lance wanted so badly to tell Red about the whole blackmail by Lotor thing - they tell each other everything for God’s sake - but he knew better than to send the other boy into a frenzy.  He could only imagine Red’s blood running cold like his did when reading his email, and his hesitancy with responding. If he would even respond. What they had was already so perfect, so easy, so _comfortable._

Lance sat up straight in his chair, now determined to keep whatever him and Red had going.  He couldn’t risk losing the only person he could be completely honest with, even if that meant complying to dickwad Lotor’s plan.  Pulling out his phone from his back jean pocket, Lance types a quick text message. He whispers a small apology to Allura before pressing send.  

_“Shiro, can we talk tomorrow before first block?  Junior parking lot?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! I'm a sucker for internet friends, high school AUs, and klance. As soon as I read this book I KNEW I had to write Simon as Lance. Some people might think Bluegreen would've been better for Lance, but it didn't match his personality as well. I hope you enjoyed, please tell me what you think!
> 
> If you want to scream more about Love Simon with me, don't be afraid to check me out on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/yumikocos) so we can talk about it :)
> 
> NOTE (7/21/18): Upon s6, I thought it more fitting if Lotor was changed to the villain in this fic, so I edited out Rolo for Lotor! Sorry if this caused any confusion!


	2. Out of the Fire, Into the Frying Pan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After 4 months, I figured this story was finally due for an update (yikes! sorry about that, school things just got too busy) but!! I think I've made up for the delayed update with a chapter that is literally triple the length of the first one, I hope you enjoy!

_To:_ [ _hipsdontlie28@gmail.com_ ](mailto:hipsdontlie28@gmail.com)

_From: redlion1023@gmail.com_

_September 4th, 2018  5:21PM_

_Subject:  Re: The Realization?_

_Blue, I’m glad that you’ve come to terms with your “ultra gayness,” and even more glad that it’s was (apparently) my doing.  It’s quite humbling, actually. You’re welcome, I guess. I’m sure you’ve only enhanced my homosexuality since we’ve started talking.  If that requires a thank you, then, thanks._

_I completely agree with you in the whole shirtless, muscular guys thing as well.  In the dog-bone analogy, a closeted guy would forever be tempted by the bone. Truly tragic._

_I admit, your scenario was pretty hilarious, I actually let out a laugh or two.  I can only imagine my brother having to come out as straight to my parents. He’s had a crush on this one girl since what feels like forever, but has never even TRIED to make a move towards her.  If he can’t even come to terms with his own feelings, I doubt he can come out to my parents. In a way, I guess he has to thank society for skipping that entire experience and handing it to me. Ugh.  Is there a return receipt?_

_Hating the world just a little bit more right now,_

_Red._

* * *

_To: redlion1023@gmail.com_

_From: hipsdontlie28@gmail.com_

_September 4th, 2018 6:01PM_

_Subject:  Re: The Realization?_

_Well! Isn’t that surprising.  You’re also welcome, then, for enhancing your gayness.  We’re just two guys, chilling in a hot tub, 5 feet apart ‘cause we’re not (totally) gay._

_I don’t think there’s a return policy at the Sexuality Store, but when life gives you lemons… stare at shirtless guys in the gym locker rooms.  In your brother’s case though, I think he should actually use the lemons and get the girl!!! Or at least try to. Tell him an anonymous person told you that he should make at least one move on her, cause you’ll never know unless you try._

_In other news, I wanted to tell you about my day.  Isn’t it weird how people can suddenly become such a huge part of your life so fast, even though you didn’t even know they existed before? It’s like, you’re suuuuper aware of their presence all of a sudden.  I don’t know, maybe this is just me being confusing, but humans are weird in that way._

_I’m just rambling on now, my bad.  How was your day?_

_Fascinated by the human brain,_

_Blue_

* * *

After pressing send on the email, Lance lets out a long sigh as he lets himself sink back into his chair.  He’s been doing homework for the past 2 hours - calc can honestly suck his _ass_ \- nonstop in attempt to get ahead for the weekend.  Being that tomorrow was a Friday, Lance knows without a doubt that he wouldn’t have an ounce of motivation to do anything remotely productive after school.  The same thing goes for the weekend, if he was really being honest with himself.

He didn’t notice when his inbox alerted him of a new message with the familiar “ _swoosh”_ before, but Red’s email instantly brought a smile to his face after his long study session.  Now that Lance sent another message back, all he could do was wait for a reply.

Lance reaches his arms up to his ceiling, his back giving a few satisfying cracks during the process, then sinks deeper into his desk chair with a drawn out moan, just for good measure.  To his annoyance, his mind wanders back to the whole Lotor thing. A frown makes his way onto his lips before he can help it, and honestly, he thinks it’s more than appropriate for the situation.

He constantly flips between wanting to screw Lotor over because why the hell should he listen to a guy who can’t even get a girl on his own?  On the other hand, he isn’t willing to risk his personal emails getting leaked. Not only would his secret be out to the rest of the school, but so would Red’s. 

_God_ , what would Red think of him?

He was basically the only person in the whole world Lance could be completely honest with.  With the internet barrier and animosity, he felt that he could confess anything and everything he wanted to.  His feelings about his sexuality, venting about his annoyances with friends and family on occasion, and the pure simplicity of their friendship could all be said without any fear of judgement.  The closeness of his currently family members and friends was greatly appreciated, and he _knows_ they would listen to everything he had to say too, but somehow, with the protection of a screen and his identity, his conversations with Red made him feel different.  Safer. It was perfectly perfect, and Lance wanted it to stay that way.

If the emails were publicized, all of that would go to shit.  Who knows what Red would think of Lance then. Red trusted him with his closeted gay feelings, the grievances with his family, and everything in between.  He wasn’t about to get some pathetic blackmailer get in the way of this (hopefully, if the flutters in Lance’s heartbeat could help it) blooming relationship.  His mind races at all the different possibilities the future held for him and Red.

He couldn’t stop himself from imagining the day that he and Red would maybe, _finally,_ meet in person.  What would he look like?  Lance imagines blonde hair and bright blue eyes, maybe some freckles across his cheeks… freckles that Lance could trace over and smile about underneath the big oak tree in his backyard.  He would ghost his fingers over Red’s face, getting lost in eyes that held the world’s most fascinating thoughts and feelings, and when a light breeze rolls by and his hair gets blown by the wind, Lance would lean down and let his lips touch Red’s–

“LAAAAANCE!”

He nearly falls flat on his ass as he jolts out of his chair, frantic and confused after being pulled from his blissful daydream.  He sighs, running both hands through his brown locks as he scolds himself for getting lost in his own, uselessly hopeful thoughts.

“Whaaaaat?” Lance yells once he reaches his bedroom door, poking his head out to look to the hallway.  He doesn’t see anyone but rather hears his brothers in the kitchen, already knowing the familiar sound of clinking metal.

“Dinner’s ready!!” His two brothers reply back, still not in sight, but Lance has a pretty good guess they’re setting up the table and were seconds away from eating everything without waiting for him.

Lance rushes back to his desk, making _extra_ sure he logs out of his email, locks his laptop (just in case, you know, someone were to figure out both of his passwords) and puts his phone into his back pocket before rushing downstairs.  As suspected, his two younger brothers were already seated with his parents by the time he reaches his chair at the dinner table.

“Were you doing homework?”  His mom asks from her place by the sink, washing her hands before eating.  Lance could still see her work clothes, a skirt, blouse, and blazer outfit, underneath the bright pink apron wrapped around her front.  Lance didn’t know why she needed to dress in such a business style when all his mom did was teach 2nd graders at the elementary school, but whatever makes her happy, he guesses.  

“Yeah,”  Lance says, nudging his fork against his brother’s.  “Stop picking out all the chicken and leaving the vegetables, Marco.”  His little brother stabs his fork through the broccoli sitting next to the chicken piece with more force than necessary, a pout on his lips, and pulls it back to his plate.

His other brother snickers at the table, nudging Marco with his elbow as he grabs a piece of meat for himself.

“Don’t you laugh either, Luis, you were doing the same thing.” Lance’s father says from behind his phone screen.   Suddenly, the other twin goes silent and Lance cracks a smile as he watches Luis reluctantly pull more vegetables to his plate.  His dad sends out whatever text message with one last tap, and puts his phone on the table while giving Lance a cheeky wink through his dark rimmed glasses.  When his mom joins the table after taking off her apron, he feels content and ready to eat dinner properly.

With his dad on his right, mom on his left, and his two younger twin brothers in front of him, his family seems complete.  Of course, there’s still his older sister Veronica who was off at college as always, but Lance knows that she’s having the time of her life on campus anyways.  One would think with a school teacher mother, sales management dad, two younger twin brothers, and an extremely smart older sister, Lance would feel satisfied with his 17 years of life.  

To be frank, he was.  But it was during perfectly happy, relaxed times like this that he wanted most to come out to his parents and scream “I’M GAAAY” and get the whole thing over with.  Actually, if he was being truly honest with himself, he couldn’t officially confirm if he was fully gay, or maybe just wasn’t attracted to girls as much, or even at all.  To get to the point, he knew he liked guys. And Lance thinks that’s enough to warrant a “coming out” moment.

“So boys, how was school?”  His mom asks, picking extra pieces of vegetables to put on the twin’s plates, much to their protest.

Lance rolls his eyes as he hears his younger brother groan, but lets out a small whine when a few more vegetables lands on his plate as well.  “Mom! The vegetable to chicken ratio isn’t even reasonable at this point–  how am I supposed to eat this?”

“Carry through it, son.”  His dad says, who’s also sporting his own full plate of veggies, compared to the single sliver of chicken.  Lance lets out a small huff, knowing he _should_ be thanking his mom for such a healthy diet.  If it was up to the boys in the house, they would be having take out every meal without a doubt.

“My day was great!  We were playing at recess, and you wouldn’t believe it, but I caught the ball during kickball and got someone out.”  Marco animatedly recreates the scene by looking up at the ceiling and jogging in place, the curls in his hair bouncing up and down flamboyantly, then proceeds to catch an armful of air and smiles proudly.

Lance’s dad raises his eyebrows, impressed, then nods his head in recognition while chewing his food. “Good, good.”

“And you, Luis?”  Lance’s mom inquires, a small smile on her face as his other brother takes his seat again at the table.

Luis hums, tapping his chubby, elementary school finger to his chin as he thought, “Nothing happened today really… Actually! Wait, no.  My day was pretty normal.”

“Oh that’s such crap!” Marco speaks up, lightly hitting his twin on the forearm.

“Marco, saying crap is a bad word.” His dad chastises him, although his mom rolls her eyes at that ridiculous rule.

“Sorryyyyy,” Marco adds, shoving a piece of potato in his mouth.  He continues to talk while chewing, much to his mother’s discomfort.  “But it’s just that Luis is _totally_ lying.”

Lance chimes in, also with a mouthful of food.  “About what?” He smiles as his mom gives him a look.  

Luis sighs, covering his face with his hands as his twin brother sits up straighter in his seat, “Luis’ art project thing got selected to be shown in the school lobby!  He was the only 3rd grader who got chosen, which I think is pretty cool. People can see it right when they walk in the school and see how awesome it looks.” Marco states proudly, the pride shining in his eyes at his brother’s achievement.

Luis, as lively as he was when he was with his brother, could only blush and smile sheepishly as he pokes and prods at the beans on his plate.   Lance, who was never the one to brush off his siblings’ accomplishments, gives him a high five loud enough to be heard by the neighbors. “Dude! That’s great.”

“Congratulations, Luis.  You too, Marco, for catching that ball.” His mom says with a fondness and love in her voice that makes both boys smile wider with satisfaction.  Lance’s dad simply nods in agreement, giving the twins silent fist bumps.

“Elementary school sounds way more exciting than high school.” Lance says, sighing with nostalgia for simpler times.

Marco instantly jumps in to protest, “Not uh, high school is where all the big kids go to do sports and stuff.  Elementary school is so boring.”

“You guys have recess.” Lance counters, pointing his fork at his sibling.

“Wait,” Luis speaks up, looking at Lance with wide, alert eyes, “You’re telling me you guys _don’t_?”  To Luis’s right, Marco mirrors the same shocked expression.

“I wish.”

Much to his pleasure, his two younger siblings groan in agony at the prospect of losing their half hour of fun once they got older.

His dad chuckles at their antics, “Savor these last few years, boys, because you won’t have recess again for a longggg time.”

As his brothers talk to themselves about all the various things they have to do before the end of this year and the next - _we have to build a fort at least four times, then play tag like, a MILLION times, oh and we can’t forget to play cops and robbers, duuhh -_ Lance’s mom turns to him to ask him how his day was.

Lance hums, debating on whether to tell the truth but not the wholllle truth, or just make up a fake situation to tell to his parents.  He decides to vent his frustrations, leaving out the whole getting Lotor with Allura or else his sexuality gets outed to the world part. He goes with a shrug of the shoulders, “Some guy was being such a d-bag today.  He was trying to get me to set him up with a senior because he’s too lame to get the girl on his own.”

“Lameeee” both his brothers parrot.  They looked pretty satisfied after listing out all their recess activities for the next two years, but were now finishing the rest of their plate.  Lance notices that only vegetables were left with a suspicious lack of chicken.

Lance scoffs, “I know right?”  His blood boils as his mind goes back to the whole situation.  Ugh.

“Why did he want you to help him, anyway?”  His mom asks curiously, her eyes meeting his.

Lance freezes.  Shit. He didn’t think about a viable excuse yet, fuck.  Trying to act as natural as he can while hiding his closeted his sexuality, he shrugs his shoulders once more, “Must be my amazing connection with all the ladies.”

It was his dad’s turn to scoff, who’s cleaning off his mouth with a napkin. “Sure.”

“If you have so many amazing connections, how come you’ve never had a girlfriend?” Marco asks, feigning innocence as the  the young boy bats his lashes at Lance. Luis snickers next to him.

Lance’s cheeks burn as he tries his best to come up with an excuse, “Well, I mean - there was that one girl back in middle school, right?”  He turns to his mom, his eyes pleading for support.

His mother shakes her head, a fond smile on her lips, “I don’t think going with her for one dance then leaving early because of a stomach ache counts, honey.”

The twins burst out laughing at that, and although his dad was trying to be as supportive as he could, Lance could see him chuckling behind the back of his hand too.  “You guys are the worstttt,” Lance groans, a pout on his face, though he can’t help but let a smile slip through anyway.

“You better find a girl for the dance soon, or else you’ll be stuck going with Hunk.”  Luis jokes, earning another chuckle from his father.

“Yeah, you don’t want people thinking you’re gay.” His dad remarks offhandedly.

Lance’s blood runs cold at the statement, his eyes darting straight to his father, who still had a smile on his face.  The laughter and warmness that was radiating off of him moments ago disappears just as quickly as it came. He could feel his heart beating out of his chest, his fists balling up on his lap, and his head pounding with the rush of his blood.  Lance knows he should laugh. It was just a simple joke, said without any malicious intent, or at least he thinks so, if the small chuckles of his family and the light shove on the shoulder his mom gave her husband is anything to go by.

He knows that.  He knows that his family isn’t homophobic in any sense of the word; they’re the most liberal democrats he knows, but still can’t help the red-hot anger that boils up within him.

His vision grows blurry the longer he looks down at his hands, still balled up into fists.  Lance can hear his own voice shaking, terrified but not enough to keep quiet, “And what’s so wrong with that?”  Before he could hear his family’s response, he stands from the table with an abrupt screech from the wooden chair.  Without looking up, he mumbles “I’m done with dinner.” The silence that followed him as he went up the stairs to his room was deafening.

He feels like the stairs have never creaked so loud as he makes his way up the steps, his ears still ringing and his mind void of any thoughts.

Lance falls ungraciously into his bed, face down, and screams into his pillow.  The tears in his eyes finally fall, seeping into the soft cotton fabric as he lets his frustration out vocally.  His breath is ragged, his hands are still shaking, and he feels the most vulnerable he’s ever been in his entire life.  He tries his best to breathe, in and out and in and out, but still gets choked up every time he tries to exhale.

Was that it?  Did he just come out to his parents?  No, no way, if anything he was just defending the general gay community, right?  It was so vague, it would be irrational to assume that he was gay just from one question.   _Right?_  He wanted his coming out to be _his_ thing.  The thing that he initiated himself, choreographed down to every movement, every word, every reaction.  As much as he was absolutely horrified about the thought of coming out, he couldn’t find it in himself to sit back and bite his tongue either.  He’s been doing that his whole life, and something about the negative implication of being anything but straight rubbed him in all the wrong ways.

Lance lets himself roll over onto his back and stare up at the ceiling, his eyes trailing over the glow in the dark stars taped up there years ago.  The midnight blue color of his walls had always calmed him, but the wild thoughts running through his mind now proved otherwise.

Okay, so what if his parents think he really _did_ come to terms with his sexuality just then?  How did they react? He didn’t exactly stick around long enough to find out, but the lack of sound coming through his closed door doesn’t necessarily help either.  He lets out a shaky breath as his hands run through his hair, his rapidly beating heart not showing any signs of slowing anytime soon.

This wasn’t his plan at all.  His plan was to have a nice, _normal,_ dinner with his _normal_ family and his _normal_ life.  Potentially having an outburst about his supposed-to-be-closeted sexuality wasn’t on the to-do list.  Lance groans again with his eyes closed and his palms pressed against his lids. He presses so hard he can see thousands of colorful spots.

The sound from his laptop makes him jolt, his head immediately turning towards his desk.  The new email notification was all he needed to hear before sitting up and slipping into his chair.  He doesn’t know how fast his fingers can actually move across the mousepad, but within seconds he was reading a message from Red.  

* * *

 

 _To:_ [ _hipsdontlie28@gmail.com_ ](mailto:hipsdontlie28@gmail.com)

_From:_ [ _redlion1023@gmail.com_ ](mailto:redlion1023@gmail.com)

_September 4th, 2018 7:14PM_

_Subject: Re: The Realization?_

_I told my brother about your advice, and he said that I’ve been watching too many rom-com shows on Netflix and don’t have enough dating cred to be advising him on his love life.  I guess he’ll be stuck pining for this girl forever._

_Your rambling isn’t bad at all, in fact, I wholeheartedly agree.  I think it’s what sets humans apart from any other species. The fact that we can connected so fast, so easily, I mean.  I don’t think any other species can do that, except dogs maybe. I don’t want to be wrongly assuming things, but if you’re referring to our friendship, then I’m glad humans can bond with each other so quickly._

_My day was alright I guess.  Nothing particularly exciting happened, other than having Italian dunkers for lunch in the cafe today.  God, they’re the best thing created by man since sliced bread._

_How was your day?_

_Also fascinated by the human brain but mostly Italian dunkers,_

_Red_

* * *

 

The tension dissolves from Lance’s body as his eyes read through the email, his rigid posture from moments ago melting into a relaxed position with his chin in his palm and a wide smile on his lips.  He thanks any and all gods up there that Red decided to email him back at this specific moment. He doesn’t know what downward spiral he would’ve pulled himself into without this beautiful distraction.  With his fingers flying across laptop’s keyboard with expert precision, Lance types back a response.

* * *

 

_To: redlion1023@gmail.com_

_From:_ [ _hipsdontlie28@gmail.com_ ](mailto:hipsdontlie28@gmail.com)

_September 4th, 2018 7:16PM_

_Subject: You like Italian dunkers?_

_Oh stop it, you’re making me blush!! Just kidding. But if I’m being real with you, my face does feel maybe a little bit hot ;) I’m glad we’ve grown so close too, I don’t know how I could’ve survived the summer without you._

_It’s moments like these where I’m even more grateful I have someone like you to talk to.  My day was going great until dinner with my family. I think I may have, maybe, possibly, come out to them?  I’m not sure. My dad said something like “you better find a date to the dance or else everyone will think you’re gay.”  And yanno, jokes on HIM right? So I said, “and what’s so wrong with that?” Obviously._

_I didn’t stay  long enough to see how they reacted, but I went upstairs to my room right after, and knowing how loud my family is, it’s rather suspicious that I haven’t heard anything downstairs yet.  Or maybe they’re speaking in low voices purposely? Probably. And now I’m here, typing this to you. It’s been a rollercoaster in my head ever since I said that. I’m terrified but also kind of numb.  I don’t know._

_But somehow reading your email has made me calm down, so thank you.  It’s nice to know that even if everything has the potential to change in my house, you’re still a constant I can trust._

_Confused and stressed,_

_Blue_

_P.S.  Italian dunkers are pretty great, but Nacho Fridays are hands down the best._

* * *

 

Lance’s cursor hovers over the send button precariously.  Would this be too personal? He admits, it seemed a little flirty, even to him.  And then there was that added weight of the latter end of his email. Would this make their relationship too awkward?  Was there even a relationship? Friendship? Whatever they had going on, he felt like it had the potential to become much more, and maybe this message would ruin it.

Feeling a sudden rush of confidence - because honestly _fuck it he might have just come out to his family, what else is there to lose? -_ he presses the send button and sinks back into his seat.  Lance sighs, feeling like his heart is going to collapse into itself for the second time today.  To his pleasant surprise, it’s only a couple minutes before he gets another email back from Red.

* * *

 

 _To:_ [ _hipsdontlie28@gmail.com_ ](mailto:hipsdontlie28@gmail.com)

_From:_ [ _redlion1023@gmail.com_ ](mailto:redlion1023@gmail.com)

_September 4th, 2018 7:20PM_

_Subject: Of course I like dunkers, I’m not a monster_

_Hey, I’m sorry you may have come out to your parents without meaning to.  From what you said though, there may be a chance that your family just thinks you’re just pro-LGBT.  Technically you didn’t outwardly say that you’re gay, so if you’re not fully ready yet you can use that card.  Besides, everyone in this generation would be dumb not to support queers. It sucks that this is happening either way.  I wish I could help more._

_You’re getting all emotional on me, Blue.  If it makes you feel better, I trust you a lot too.  We can be each other’s constants in life. If that’s cool with you, I mean.  I don’t want to assume anything. I’m just. Gonna stop the email here._

_Feeling a bit flustered,_

_Red_

_P.S. Dunker Thursday > Nacho Friday, but I’ll eat both. _

* * *

 

 _To:_ [ _redlion1023@gmail.com_ ](mailto:redlion1023@gmail.com)

_From:_ [ _hipsdontlie28@gmail.com_ ](mailto:hipsdontlie28@gmail.com)

_September 4th, 2018 7:23PM_

_Subject: Re: Of course I like dunkers, I’m not a monster_

_Thanks for your advice, I think I just needed someone else to talk to, I felt like my head was spinning in the moment, yanno?  Even if they do figure out my sexuality, I hope nothing changes. I want them to know I’m still the same guy I’ve always been, but just a guy who also happens to like other guys._

_Dude, no need to get all awkward!! We’re having a heart to heart moment.  I’m actually really excited to know we trust each other the same amount. At this point, it’s too late to turn back so I guess you’re stuck with me forever.  Sorry, no take backs :) <3 _

_Sending much love and gratitude,_

_Blue_

_P.S.  I’m down for eating both too. Anything but sloppy joe Mondays.  Gross._

* * *

His heart races after sending the risky message, but somehow he doesn’t mind.  He doesn’t mind sending smiley faces or hearts or ending the email with “love.”  Lance wishes he could be this bold and confident with Red all the time, but the other boy was always so cautious and hesitant when it came to anything too personal, it was difficult to tell when moments like these were okay.  His stomach does a flip after he realizes the possibility of Red thinking he crossed over the invisible boundary they set between each other. The line about revealing too many personal things and their friendship becoming anything more than that was set early on in their conversations.  Of course, it wasn’t anything explicitly stated, but Lance assumed that it was there to begin with, otherwise he would’ve demanded to know who Red was by now.

Lance worries his lip absentmindedly, his mind and fingers looking for something distracting to do while waiting anxiously for the next reply.  He spends time checking his other emails, which weren’t nearly as interesting as any that Red sends him, and going through YouTube videos.

His worries skyrocket once he notices that a full ten minutes have passed since he last sent his message, and there still wasn’t a response.  It was another five minutes of anxious foot tapping and staring at the digital clock on his laptop until his email rang with a notification. Without a moment of hesitation, he presses on the icon.

* * *

 

 _To:_ [ _hipsdontlie28@gmail.com_ ](mailto:hipsdontlie28@gmail.com)

_From:_ [ _redlion1023@gmail._ ](mailto:redlion1023@gmail.om) _com_

_September 4th, 2018 7:38PM_

_Subject: Anything but the sloppy joes_

_I think your statement stands true for the both of us.  Just two normal high schoolers that like other high school guys.  When you put it that way, it doesn’t seem as hyped up as people make it out to be.  Huh. It’s almost as if, I don’t know, we’re normal people? Who would have thought._

_You can’t have a heart to heart moment when you use the word “dude”, dude.  But I’ll let it slide this time :)_

_I have to study for another test now, sadly, or else my brother will beat my ass.  Talk to you tomorrow?_

_Sending equally as much love,_

_Red_

_P.S. If that’s the case, you’re stuck with me too._

_P.S.S. I wouldn’t ever want a take back anyway._

* * *

 

Lance’s cheeks feel like they’re on fire as his eyes scan over the email again and again.  After the 4th time of reading through, Lance still pinches himself _just_ to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.

Red, the person he’s been messaging all summer.  Red, who gets antsy and nervous every time he has to talk about anything with potentially embarrassing emotions involved.  Red, who took so long to reply because he was probably debating what to send, just like Lance was half an hour ago. Red, who was just as nervous yet excited about whatever the future holds for them.

Lance can’t help the biggest smile that makes its way to his face.  He tries to cover it with his hand, even though he knows no one is there to see him, but the words staring back at him from the screen makes it embarrassing nonetheless.  The giddiness never leaves his stomach as he types.

* * *

 

 _To:_ [ _redlion1023@gmail.com_ ](mailto:redlion1023@gmail.com)

_From:_ [ _hipsdontlie28@gmail.com_ ](mailto:hipsdontlie28@gmail.com)

_September 4th, 2018 7:45PM_

_Subject: just two guys sitting in a hot tub (again!!)_

_Good luck studying!! You got this, italian dunker boy :D  talk to you tomorrow, for sure._

_Just as flustered as you are,_

_Blue_

_P.S. I wouldn't want a take back either_

* * *

 

With the weight lifted off his chest from dinner and a warm feeling in his heart, Lance thinks about how he _should_ finish doing homework or study like Red.  But after the emotional rollercoaster that was today, he can’t find himself to do anything that requires more than three brain cells.  He sets off to shower and carry through his usual nightly routine of both dental and skin care before changing into boxers for the night.  Lance decides to ignore any and all family members, still downstairs cleaning up from dinner and packing for school tomorrow, and the slight bit of guilt that was forming inside of him for walking out so rudely before.

He decides that any emotion but the pure happiness and giddiness from Red was forbidden for the night.  He had already spent what felt like hours thinking about all the unfortunate things that occurred earlier, it would be a crime to let Red’s encouraging words go to waste by thinking about the situation more than he already did.

Lance gets himself settled into bed with Netflix on his laptop and his blanket ready to be cuddled in.  As he puts up a random rom-com movie, cause gosh darn it Red’s email brought up his lack of watching romantic comedies lately, a small ping from his phone pulls his attention away from the screen.

_Shirodaddy (9:12PM):  Of course, you don’t even need to ask Lance.  Tomorrow in the parking lot then._

Lance looks up at his ceiling and groans.  Of course, of course the single moment he’s fully relaxed, in bed with _Ella Enchanted_ up and loaded, reality decides to hit him with the Lotor fiasco.  He had managed, miraculously, to forget about the whole thing until now, but Shiro’s response brought him back down to sucky planet earth full of high school drama.

_Lancey Lance (9:15PM): gr8!! See u tomorrowwww_

He sighs to himself, slowly sinking into the blissful softness of his pillows as he brings his gaze back to his laptop screen and gets lost in the world of prince and princesses for the rest of the night.

.

.

.

Lance lays underneath the cooling shade of his beach umbrella, his long legs stretched out fully on the towel as he sips on ice cold water.  He can hear the seagulls in the sky, squawking as they make their way across the beach. The sound of the waves crashing and wind blowing never felt more peaceful than in this exact moment.

He looks to his right, to another boy sitting on a beach towel adjacent to his.  His blonde hair, so golden and silky, was fanned out against the red fabric. After a long day walking the beach and swimming, his skin had a soft pink glow to it.  Some people may call it a slight sunburn, but all Lance saw was pure beauty. Lance looks up at the person next to him, and although he knows that the other has blue eyes just like him, he couldn’t fully picture his face.

He probably didn’t have his contacts in, Lance thinks, ‘cause all he can see is blonde hair and blue eyes.  Lance could see the other’s lips moving, but the sound of the water overpowers his ears.

“What?”  He asks, trying to pull himself closer to the bright red towel.

Lance’s ears must have been clogged up with water from all the swimming, being that all he can hear is, “...ake up?”

“Huh?”

“ _LANCE_!  Aren’t you gonna wake up?!  You’re late for school.” His dad’s voice brings him back to reality, his father’s middle-aged arms never strong as they are now as he pushes on Lance’s bare shoulder.  

Lance’s eyes flash open, bringing him to a near heart attack as his dad’s face is positioned two inches away from his.  He swears he can see every ugly, clogged pore on his dad’s face from this distance. Lance isn’t ever one to hold back the theatrics, as he lets out a yelp that the neighbors could hear and scrambles away so fast he hits his head against the wall with a resounding “thud”, followed by a pained groan.

Mr. McClain lets out the loudest exasperated sigh in his life, or Lance thinks so, due to the heaviness of it.  “I’m driving you to school today, since you already missed the bus.”

The sound of a creaky engine outside his window confirms the fact, earning another groan from Lance as he continues to rub the back of his head.

His dad starts to exit the room, one hand on the door knob as he looks back at his tardy son, “That doesn’t mean take 2 hours to get ready though, be downstairs in 15 minutes, okay?”

Lance, the ever growing lanky teen, nearly falls out of bed trying to get up with half-asleep limbs.  “15 minutes?! Dad, you know it takes me at _least_ half an hour to style my hair in the morning–”

“Fifteen!”  His dad shouts from the bottom of the steps, no doubt already going into the kitchen to get started on breakfast for the boys.  At that, Lance lets out a frustrated “aagggggggggh” that resounds through the house, just so his dad knows it’ll be impossible.

.

.

.

It turns out that it was _quite_ possible to be out of the house in 15 minutes, Lance learns, once he’s sitting in the car with a piece of toast in his mouth like some anime freak tv show with one arm in his jacket and a half-open backpack.  He’s still breathing heavy, his shoulders rise and fall with every breath of air he manages to get around the bread slice lodged firmly in his mouth, although his grip on it seems to loosen with every second as his saliva soaks the crunchy, buttered surface.  

He manages to straighten himself out as the car pulls out of the driveway, by first putting his arm through his sports jacket with a low grunt.  The “Altea High Soccer Team” logo on the fabric lies wrinkled on his chest. By the time he zips up his bag, jams his phone into the aux cord, and sets up the mood for the morning car ride with _Toxic_ by Shakira, his dad’s face has smoothed over with a look of exasperation from before.

Lance was just happy enough to get just a _little_ bit more beauty sleep this morning, despite his daily hour routine being cut to a quarter of what it is, but hey, all’s well that ends well, now that he got a ride to school.  As he’s looking through his early twitter feed, his eyes scanning through the headlines like the app was the daily newspaper while his mouth absentmindedly chews on the slice of toast, he hears a low clearing of the throat from the person on his left.

Blue eyes shift from the phone screen to his dad, looking more like a dad than ever, trying to keep his eyes on the road as if he was going to burn a hole into the rear end of the car in front of them.  His father clears his throat again, managing to mumble out, “So about yesterday…”

At this, Lance sits up straighter in his seat, his back going rigid straight, and suddenly the energetic Britney Spears blasting through the speakers was merely white noise to his ears.  He could see his dad’s adam’s apple bobbing as the man takes a nervous swallow, unaware that his son was mirroring the exact same nervous instinct to his right.

“Yeah?”  Lance asks, his voice sounding small even to him.  His mind was already going a mile a minute, thinking about all the different possibilities this conversation could end up in.  

He remembers when his dad, man of the house, decided he should have the sex talk at the mere age of 12, and the conversation _definitely_ didn’t go as planned from when Lance thought he was going to have a nice conversation about birds and bees.  If he couldn’t predict what kind of talk they would have from the first sentence, tone of voice, facial expression back then, Lance doesn’t think he could do it now.  This could go anywhere and nowhere at the same time.

His father spares a quick glance at his son, eyes peeling off the road for a second before flicking back as the car makes a right turn at a stop sign.  Lance was expecting his dad to tell him his entire family was disowning him right then and there, that they were going to throw all his things out the window and into the garbage disposal, that they were so extremely disappointed he couldn’t even bring home a girl before deciding he was gay, or maybe that they thought this was “all a phase” and wasn’t the real him, anything but whatever his dad was going to say next.

“I’m sorry.”

Wait.  What? He’s dumbfounded in every way.  The look of shock must be ever present on his face, his eyes wide and mouth slightly ajar.   His dad, noticing the lack of response from his son, gives him a look then rolls his eyes.

“Don’t mock me when I’m apologizing to you, Lance.”  He chastises, though his tone of voice and the quiet sigh of relief reveals his non existent anger towards the surprised teen at his side.

This time, it was Lance’s turn to cough awkwardly. “Sorry, I just.  Wasn’t really expecting that.” Needing something to do with his hands, he brings his fingers up to pull at the short strands of his chestnut brown hair, twisting and pulling to make sure that this was real.  This was actually happening, on his way to school, at 7:30 in the morning. “What’s there to be sorry for?”

His dad sucks in air through his teeth, looking lost for words, but still manages to attempt to convey his message.  “Lots of things, kid. I didn’t mean to upset you last night about what I said, you know it was all in good fun.” The man tilts his head to the side, “Well, it probably wasn’t fun, since it was offensive.  I get that now.”

Lance’s eyes are still locked onto the side profile of his dad, trying to soak in every word he hears and every movement he sees, trying to decipher if everything that was said is true.  Of course it is, he knows this, it’s his _dad_ for God’s sake.  He bites his lip, not knowing what to say, or if he should even say anything.  The car pulls into the drop off zone, staying on the right side of the road as his dad turns on the emergency lights.  Finally, his father turns his head to face him, blue eyes meeting each other as their gazes connect for what seems like the first time that morning.

“I’m sorry for saying what I said, and I know that you’ll get a girl some day for the dance,” Mr. McClain ends with the smallest of smiles, ocean blue orbs bright and shining in the morning rays of the sun filtering through the windows.  “Aaaand even if you don’t, maybe you’ll have more luck with the men. Who knows?” His dad even has the _nerve_ to add a shoulder shrug and smirk at the end, just for good measure.  

At this, Lance’s cheek redden as he feels his face burn.  “Dad, what the hell!” He crosses his arms, letting out a huff as his dad chuckles, his eyes crinkling and his laughter light.  Lance allows himself to grin too, uncrossing his arms to bring it around his father’s neck for an awkward hug above the console.  “Thanks for understanding. I’m sorry I walked out like that, too. I didn’t even clean up the dishes.”

He hears a low whistle at his ear, “Yeah, in between a lecture from your mom, she did mention that.  She’s pretty pissed about the veggies left over on your plate.”

Lance sighs, loud and clear as he pulls away.  “Hey, I think I get a pass on that, given the situation at the time!”

The father and son pair stare at each other for one. Two.  Three seconds before they break into laughter. They’re almost splitting images of each other, Lance’s eyes and chestnut hair matching his dad’s exactly.  His dad would even argue that he looked just like Lance when he was also a teenager, even going as far to claim he looked even _better_ , much to Lance’s disagreement.

The younger boy puts his hand on the car door handle, already pulling it open as he steps off onto the sidewalk.  He lifts his bag over one shoulder, the smile still easy on his lips. “See you later dad, thanks for the ride.” As he closes the door and his dad drives off with a salute, he says, “I can’t promise you a date, though!”  He hears his dad’s laugh rather than sees it, but it still lifts his spirit up anyway.

Well, that didn’t go exactly the way he thought it would.  Lance thanks the lucky stars that it went better than he could have ever predicted.  Thank god. So his parents _didn’t_ want to disown him.  And maybe he just came out to them, at this point he’s unsure of it himself.  Still, it feels like a weight has been lifted on his shoulders that was heavier than ever since last night.  He thinks he’s out of the clear for an easy going day, after that semi-emotional car ride, until he hears an all too familiar voice call out to him from a couple feet away at the main doors.

“Lance!”

He turns to his left, eyes instantly catching onto a black and white head of hair.

Shiro.

_Shit._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's that! I'm hoping to update this story as much as possible in the summer before college starts up in the fall, so subscribe and keep tabs if you want to follow this story, it would mean the world to me! Let me know what you think!! 
> 
> If you want to scream about Love Simon or s6 of Voltron, talk to me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/yumikocos) :)
> 
> Until next time!


	3. You've Got a Friend in Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In between all of the moral conflict, Lance finally gets the chance to expel a small snippet of his truth towards one of his longtime friends. Well, only a small piece of it anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @ Voltron's s7 trailer UHHHHHH WHAT-?! Shiro's officially LGBT, Keith and Shiro's bond grows stronger, Lance gets his character arc,13 episodes, s8 by the end of the year?? my heart can't handle this. The new trailer released today (yesterday now) motivated me enough to post this chapter, which took a couple days to type up and edit, I hope you guys like it!!
> 
> Title taken shamelessly from Toy Story lol

“Standing me up this morning, Lance?”  Shiro quips, a small smirk on his lips as he pulls Lance in for a handshake and half hug.  Lance notices the lingering smell of shampoo in the elder’s hair as he gets pulled close. The younger boy lets out a small heave at the hard hand slapped on his back, knowing for sure his skin was going pink underneath his clothes.  Lance didn’t have the heart to reciprocate the action, opting for a light tap in the middle of Shiro’s shoulder blades.

“My bad,”  Lance gives Shiro a sheepish grin once they pull away from each other, his eyes not quite meeting the other boy’s yet.  Once they disconnect, his hand automatically go to the back of his neck, rubbing at the spot in guilt, “I overslept this morning so my dad dropped me off.”

Shiro shakes his head, a lighthearted smile on his face, “Nothing ever changes, does it?”

“Hey!”  Lance barks, lightly shoving Shiro’s shoulder, “Watch, once I get a car, you’ll be eating my dust on the way here.”  The probability of that happening was extremely low, considering Shiro was the earliest of early birds with his baseball team practices starting at the asscrack of dawn.  Even though they went to the same school and lived in the same neighborhood, Lance would always walk out of his house to see his neighbor’s empty driveway down the street, Shiro’s familiar black Toyota gone at least half an hour prior.

Shiro scoffs as he takes a seat on the familiar benches outside the school’s main entrance.  “Until then, I’ll be waiting. I thought it was pretty odd you told me to meet you in the junior lot when you didn’t have a ride.”  He runs a hand through his black and white locks, fingers soaking up the lingering water left over from his shower in the school locker rooms a couple minutes before.  With his hair pulled back, droplets dripping down his arm and seeping into his long sleeve shirt, Shiro looks up at Lance with warm brown eyes. Just as Lance was about to slump his shoulders and relax under the comforting company of his oldest friend, Shiro pops the question Lance has been avoiding all morning.  

“So, what did you want to talk about?”

At this, Lance visibly stiffens.  He was going to have to talk about this to Shiro.  Should he? No, then he’d have to come out with his sexuality.  Although he knew without a doubt in his mind that Shiro would be nothing but loving and accepting of Lance, he couldn’t.  He wasn’t ready. Not now, at least. Plus, it was only the beginning of the day, in the middle of the busiest part of campus in the mornings.  This was the least optimal place to come out to one of his longest friends.

Then there was the fact that the blackmailing asshole wanted to get with Shiro’s biggest crush _ever_ , and it was simply Lance’s _life mission_ to get Shiro with Allura.  Even if they only kept in touch periodically, Lance knew by the way the other boy showered Allura with fond looks and lovesick eyes that Shiro was so incredibly head over heels for her.  At least, that’s what Lance thought.

Back when he sent the text, he was so determined to maintain his relationship with Red that he didn’t quite think the whole situation through.  Now, he didn’t ever want to think about sabotaging Shiro’s chances with his crush, even if it meant sacrificing his own growing feelings towards an online boy.  Ugh, feelings were too confusing. So then, what was he supposed to say to Shiro now?

The senior high schooler, noticing Lance’s troubled expression, sits patiently with an upward curve of his lips and taps the vacant spot on the bench next to him.  The dark skinned boy graciously takes a seat, sighing deeply as he absentmindedly twiddles with his fingers. Despite the fact Lance called Shiro here to meet, came late due to oversleeping, and was currently at a loss for words, Lance never felt any sense of annoyance or pressure from Shiro to talk.  And that was what he missed the most from Shiro all these years— the constant, comforting aura that Shiro emitted effortlessly.  Being back in the warm, soothing presence of the older teen was all Lance needed to open up to him again.  

“I… came across a problem?”  Lance starts, sounding unsure even to his own ears, but choosing to continue talking anyway, because that’s what he does best.  “Say there was this asshole who came to me, right—”

Shiro raises a questioning brow, giving Lance a knowing look.

“Okay, sorry, this very _annoying_ guy—  Say this guy came to me and tries to get me to set him up with his girl he’s like, totally in love with but doesn’t have the balls to ask her out himself.  And of course I say no, cause what do I look like? A matchmaker?” Lance throws his hands in the air, his eyebrows lifting for extra emphasis, “Well, I kind of am, remember how in 7th grade I tried to get you with that new blonde girl—”

Shiro’s disgruntled cough snaps him out of his monologue, the slightest hint of red spreading over Shiro’s cheeks as the he tries to reel Lance back into his original story.

Lance lets a smile slip through before continuing, “Yeah, anyway, obviously I say no, right.  But then he claims he has a hold of one of my deepest secrets ever? That could possibly ruin my high school career and even the rest of my life?  I don’t even know what the secret _is,_ honestly.  But I’d rather not find out after the whole school, you know?” He tries his best to play it off with a light hearted shrug, though he feels like his skin is on fire from lying through his teeth.

He could feel his shoulders sinking as the guilt settles uncomfortably at the bottom of his stomach.  He wasn’t _lying_ , per se, but definitely not telling the whole truth.  Okay, maybe he was lying about the last part, but still, the last thing he would do is start naming names to anyone.  If Shiro knew, he would definitely take it into his own hands and give Lotor a speech about self discipline and bullying, or something like that.  

He doesn’t make eye contact with Shiro yet, too afraid to see the expression the other was wearing.  Instead, he opts for glancing down at his worn in shoes, his eyes trailing over the dirty shoelaces that were once white and the ripped black canvas that was beautifully stitched together a year prior.  As ridiculous as it was, his Converse seemed like a pretty good metaphor for his life right about now. So simple and straightforward last year, and now look at him, being a gay blackmailed teenager asking the person he was supposed to be betraying for help.  

“What do you think I should do?”

He hears Shiro let out a low whistle, and turns his head towards the high school senior.  The older boy was mirroring Lance’s previous position, the water dripping from Shiro’s white locks onto the sidewalk as the boy’s gaze stays trained on the pavement.  His legs are spread wide, elbows rested on the light fabric of his athletic shorts as he takes a few, long moments to properly piece together his thoughts. Once he does, Shiro locks onto oceanic blue eyes with the most earnest look Lance think he’s ever seen.

“You should tell him no.”

Lance lowers himself into the bench even more, letting out a deep exhale as he tries to will himself into non existence entirely.  Of course Shiro would say that, it’s _Shiro._ Straitlaced, steadfast Shiro who couldn’t — no, _wouldn’t_ — stand for any injustice of any kind.  Most of the time, this was an admirable trait, in Lance’s eyes at least.  Who doesn’t love a knight in shining armor?

The answer was Lance.  Now was not the time for playing fair and square, especially with Lance’s potentially high school career ending secret.  “But what if he has some super life threatening dirt on me? I could possibly end up being the school’s biggest loser ever!”  Lance vents, his arms flailing at the built up stress finally finding the smallest of outlets to be let out.

Shiro hums, tilts his head side to side as he contemplates an appropriate Shiro-style answer.  “Then play along. Just for a little while at least; It’s better to be safe than sorry.”

Lance is dumbfounded. “Wait, so,”  His eyebrows scrunch up as the younger boy tries to make sense of everything that was said so far.  “You said you wanted me to tell him no, but now you’re saying to follow along with a _blackmailer_ of all people?  Something doesn’t connect here.”

“Yeah, I guess it doesn’t.” Shiro lets out a low airy chuckle, “I know you; you wouldn’t be scared of some bully just because they claimed they had some dirt on you.  There’s something you’re keeping from the world, but you’re not quite ready to say what you want to say.

“So, right now, _personally,_ ” Shiro stressed, “I think the best move is to lay low and pretend to follow through this guy’s plan, until you’re ready to come clean on your own terms.  After that, this guy holds nothing over you. But I think you already made up your mind about this whole thing before you talked to me, right?” He offers Lance a sincere smile, his almond-brown eyes holding a look full of understanding and compassion.  Lance’s heart feels like it’s filled to the brim with love from all the countless times Shiro has shown him more friendship and tenderness than he deserves. Ever since they were younger, the other always had a talent for being socially adept and able to sense anyone’s innermost wants and needs, even if they failed to voice them.  

Lance returns a shy grin, scratching his cheek bashfully, “Was it that obvious?”

Shiro shrugs, pursing his lips, “A little bit.  But I’d like to say I know you better than most.”  He lightly bumps his shoulder against Lance’s, his playful eyes shining bright in the morning rays of the sun above them.

The chocolate haired boy lets out a huff, “You got that right.”  The two share smiles that rest light on their lips, comfortable in the short bit of silence between them despite the bustling of high school students rushing to their classes and friends in the early morning rush hour.  Their brief moment of quiet is interrupted when the all-too-familiar school bell rings, signalling the five minute interval until class officially starts, and when they would officially be counted as tardy for school.

Lance shoots out of his seat like a rocket, his blue eyes blowing up wide, “Shit!  I have chem first block!”

“You mean, on the other side of the school?”

He groans, his hand sliding down his face as he makes his way to the school’s front entrance doors, with a eye-rolling Shiro following close behind.  “If I get there late Mr. Slav is gonna give me a detention _for sure._ I’ve showed up after the bell rang like, six times already this year.”

Shiro could only give him an exasperated head shake and a disapproving click of his tongue in response to the young boy’s knack for tardiness.

Just before parting at the main lobby, Lance turns back to look at his friend of many years, “Hey, thanks for listening to me today, even if I didn’t really make any sense.”

“Anytime,” Shiro answers easily, “I don’t see you enough, you know that?”

“I know!” Lance exclaims, his arms shooting up again,  “How is that even possible, being in the same school and neighborhood?”

Shiro, always one to hold back unnecessary words, simply shrugs.

“How about lunch together?”  Lance asks, his tone light and easy, despite the nervousness tickling the back of his mind.  Spending the last few minutes talking with Shiro was the most refreshing morning he’s had in a while.  Shiro was one of his closest friends, and even though Lance has managed to keep a safe distance away from him over their years through middle school and high school through short waves across the fences separating their houses and occasional hallway run-ins, he had missed the company of the older boy more than would like to admit.

Shiro gives him a nod, “Sure.  Meet me at my car?”

“Ohhhhhh, I forgot, you seniors and your lovely campus parkingggg,” Lance teases, a twitch pulling at his lips to reveal a lighthearted smile.  “I’ll see you at lunch, then.” He was just about to walk towards the other end of the hall, perfectly content with their lunch plans, until he freezes in his tracks.   Lance stiffens at the realization that making plans with Shiro would mean ditching Pidge and Hunk at their usual cafeteria table.

Upon coming to the same conclusion, Shiro comes into the rescue before Lance has yet another inner moral conflict with himself.  “You can bring your two friends along too. If we all squeeze, I’m sure we can all fit.”

Lance gives him an unsure lift of the brow, “In your small Toyota Corolla?  Are you sure?”

The elder looks up at the ceiling, counting all the students that would be piling into his car during the lunch hour that day on his fingers.  His eyes are filled with determination once his gaze reconnects with Lance’s. “We can make it work.”

The other boy pauses for a moment in another brief tick of hesitation, before deciding _fuck it_ and ending the conversation with a shrug.  “If you say so.”

Before parting, the two share another handshake — the pat on Lance’s back is a lot lighter this time — and another quick grin before Lance books it to the science hall on the other side of the school.

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The feeling of his heart racing a mile a minute and his calves burning from rushing through the crowded hallways seemed too routine to Lance as he all but dropped into his seat as the last chimes of the school’s bell rang, signalling the start of class.  He was still trying, in vain, to steady his breathing in his chair as Mr. Slav began the class period with a mundane “Good morning” to all the students. One would think that being on the soccer team as a midfielder, Lance would be used to running long distances by now, but sprinting was an entirely different story.

Beside him, Pidge is snickering into her sweater sleeve at the sight of Lance’s flushed cheeks.  “Why does this happen at least once a week?”

Making eye contact, Lance manages to let out a huff and harsh whisper in between his gasps for air, “It does not!”

Sitting in the seat in front of Lance, Hunk turns behind and nods along with Pidge, “Sorry dude, but it does.”

Lance lets out a melodramatic gasp, his hand going up to reach for his heart, “Complete and utter betrayal!  Unbelievable!”

“What’s unbelievable is that class started a minute ago and you’re still not quiet, Mr. McClain.”

The whole class stills, turning around to face Lance as Mr. Slav stands at the front of the classroom, eyes narrowed and arms crossed in irritation.  Some students have enough bravery to sneer and chuckle, while Hunk practically gives himself whiplash from turning back to face the front so quickly.

Lance feels the heat rush up to his cheeks, not from running down the halls this time, as he gives Mr. Slav a small, sheepish wave paired with a grin.  “Sorry sir, just uh,” he manages, “talking over some of last night’s homework problems with my smart, tiny friend Pidge here. Right, Pidgey?”

The girl stares daggers into Lance’s head as he gives her a firm pat on the back, with a lingering shoulder squeeze that only grows stronger the longer the silence drags out.  Lance’s eyes are pleading as he not-so-discreetly begs Pidge to come to the rescue. The rest of the class watches on anxiously, their eyes flicking back and forth between the students and teacher, hoping for the day Mr. Slav finally snaps yet also silently waiting for how Lance was going to finesse himself out of this situation.  

Pidge coughs once, all eyes zoning in on her as she mumbles, “Yep.”

The rest of the student body present in the room turns their attention to Mr. Slav, who looks unimpressed and unconvinced, but uncrosses his arms in defeat as he ends the conversation with an exasperated sigh, “Get all of your work discussions done _before_ class starts next time you two.”

Lance breaks out into the biggest shit-eating grin, raising his eyes up in a mock salute, “Yes, sir!”

The classroom breaks into small giggles and snickers at the main trio’s antics, but mostly Lance, as the one guy behind him offers a first bump that he returns happily.

The rest of the class passes by uneventfully, with Mr. Slav spouting and writing nonsense on the board — Pidge will argue later that it was reasonably sound information, but Lance disagrees — and Lance spacing out for the nth time this year by looking out the window to his right.  To his front and to his left, Hunk and Pidge were diligently copying down notes and figures, but Lance could only manage to absentmindedly let his hand move the pencil on paper as his thought process was on something else entirely.

If he manages to miss something along the way, he could fill in the empty spots of his notes by asking Pidge later.  Besides, he needed her to reexplain all of this to him anyway, being that all he was hearing Mr. Slav was pure gibberish to his ears.

Right now though, his mind was on this whole Lotor business.  God, he hated how much he’s been wasting most of his precious time and brain power focused on his blackmailer recently.  But he couldn’t help it, the guy held Lance’s biggest secret and was a walking time-bomb, waiting to release it into the world the second Lance stepped out of line.  And now, after talking with Shiro, Lance knows that he won’t rebel against the original conditions set, not unless he wanted his whole high school reputation ruined. The only way to make sure Lotor wouldn’t have anything against him is if Lance came out to the world himself.  

Realistically, he knows that he might be just a _bit_ over dramatic with this whole situation.  In this generation, it wasn’t all too uncommon for people to be LGBT, hell, Lance knows a handful of people in his own grade that are out and completely happy with it.  And he knows deep in his heart that his close friends and family would be nothing but open and welcoming when coming to terms with his sexuality, but the worry and anxiety still hits him like a train every time he thinks about all the possibilities.

His school wasn’t known for bullying, but no doubt some bullies who still have their heads stuck in their asses would mock Lance like they occasionally did with some of the openly gay boys during their locker room changes for gym class.  Lance would always step in and tell them all to kindly fuck off, but he wonders if he could stand up for himself if the attention was suddenly directed towards him.

And then there was the whole thing with Red. _Oh, Red._ Lance thought to himself, bringing up his arm to rest his chin on his palm.  His eyes scan over the field outside the classroom’s windows, looking over the unfortunate students who were assigned PE as their first class of the day.

As much as Lance thought about that asshole Lotor, he thought about Red twice as much.  It seemed that everyday their relationship was blossoming and growing more and more, much to his delight.  What started out as an online acquaintance, two boys having no one else to vent out their feelings to besides each other, now felt like a potential romantic _relationship_.

Okay, so maybe Lance was getting ahead of himself and hoping for the future too often, but he couldn’t deny the growing fondness he had for the boy on the other side of the screen.  Especially since their email conversation from last night, where Lance could feel the slightest sense of flirting? Could he call it that? He would, Lance decides, because the flutter in his chest and the beating of his heart was proof.

Just as he was imagining soft, pale skin and beautiful golden locks running through his slender fingers, and the soothing smell of the sea salt and sand from his beach dream earlier this morning, he’s hit with a folded piece of paper on his arm.

Blinking out of his daydream, Lance turns over to Pidge with an annoyed frown for pulling him out of his daydream when he finally managed to zone out of the dull chemistry lesson.  The other returned an unimpressed look and pointed discreetly to the square of paper she had flicked to him.

Lance unfolded the message, his eyes scanning over the words faster than he could have ever read through the notes written on the whiteboard up front.   **_If you don’t at least TRY to pay attention I swear I won’t help you later on when you beg for my help during lunch._ **

Lance looks over to Pidge with pleading eyes, putting on his best pout, only to have it answered with Pidge pointing her petite finger at Lance, then jutting it towards the board.  The older boy sighs lightly, writing on the paper before returning it back to its original owner.

**_Pidgey!! Don’t do this to me!! You know I’ll always give you my chocolate chip cookies in return for your lovely service <3  Also, speaking of lunch, I made plans for the three of us to go eat with Shiro and his friends, if that’s cool? Meet us at the senior parking lot, he’s driving! :D_ **

Pidge gives Lance an incredulous look, then shrugs while nodding.  Lance takes that as a yes and answers with a smile. As Lance furiously attempts to copy down the notes he missed staring aimlessly out the window then passing notes with his friends, he notices Pidge writing their lunch plans on another scrap piece of paper and exchanging it with Hunk.

Hunk looks back at the seat behind him as Lance is trying to pull through his hand cramp to write down the importance of significant figures and whatever the hell these numbers mean.  Hunk gives him the okay, which gives Lance _just_ enough motivation to continue the rest of the class as a semi-diligent student.

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The trio of friends separate for their next two classes before lunch, with Lance going to the English hall while Pidge and Hunk head off to their shared advanced calculus III class on the top floor.  A part of Lance was jealous that their brains comprehended such confusing derivative equations so easily, but he was more than grateful to stay in his plain old calc I class when he took a peek at Hunk’s homework one time and saw that one problem took up a whole three page spread.

The threesome say their goodbyes outside the chemistry room, Hunk giving a curt but friendly wave and Lance saying, “Keep your stomachs empty for lunch!  That means no snacking during class, Pidge!” as students filter into the hallway like small ants in an ant hill.

Pidge rolls her eyes, although she and the boys both knew she was a constant eating machine that stopped for no one, especially when her brain was constantly racing with advanced calculus and physics scenarios.   “See ya later, Lance.”

He sends them off with one last wave, stemming off at a staircase in the corner, and walks down the hall towards his beloved English classroom.  While Hunk and Pidge thrived on mathematical facts and figures, Lance’s bread and butter was the fine, intricate parts of the English language. He loved the way certain words, when strung together in a beautiful sequence, could offer such a vast variety of information and convey the widest range of emotions.

He was three steps away from the most heavenly classroom in the entire school, three steps away from his little heaven in the middle of complete and utter hell, until someone steps in his way.

“What’s up, McClain?”

“Don’t ‘what’s up’ me, jackass.”  Lance remarked dryly, crossing his arms and popping his hip.  He frowned in distaste at the sight of Lotor, the other boy wearing the most fuckboy outfit one could ever conjure up for an adolescent teen.  With a snapback on backwards, — against the dress code, Lance notes offhandedly — hawaiian button up, tan cargo shorts matched with the most horrendous pair of bright green shoes Lance thinks he’s ever seen, Lotor looked like the epitome of all assholes on Earth.  

Lotor’s lips quirk into a teasing smirk, “Hey now, that’s not the way you should be talking to someone who knows about your little _secret_ , is it?”  

Lance has to hold himself back from rolling his eyes.  “No, it isn’t,” Lance says, but offers a snide comment while he mirrors Lotor’s smirk, “but I’ll still talk to you any way I like.”  Lotor bristles at that, but before he could get a word in, Lance adds, “Don’t worry, I’ll follow along with your stupid plan. Just— don’t breathe a word about this to anyone, okay?”

The last part came out less assertive than he would have liked, but the message was thoroughly received on Lotor’s part.  Even if he was going along with this, Lance made sure Lotor knew he wouldn’t take any of this bullshit more than he had to.  The other boy scoffed, shaking his head lightly, “Yeah, yeah. As long as you give a word about me to Allura, got it?” Lotor, being the shithead that he is, also thinks it’s necessary to bump shoulders with Lance as he makes his way around him to get to his adjacent English room.  He gives Lance a chuckle as a parting when the other boy huffs indignantly in response.

“How could I forget?” Lance mumbles in disdain, finally trudging his way into his own classroom as the bell rings.  Great, the only class he looks forward to in the school day has now been preceded by the greatest dickwad of all dickwads.  Just as Lance was about to plop ungraciously into his seat, a bright orange mustache comes into his view, paired with a dazzling smile belonging to the one and only Coran Hieronymus Wimbleton Smythe, or just Mr. Smythe as he introduced himself fully on the first day of school only to receive a classroom full of blank stares.

“Lance, my boy!”  Coran exclaims, his hands flinging into the air much like Lance’s did this morning while talking to Shiro, “Why do you look so down this fine morning?  Better put a smile on, ‘cause today, we’re going to talk about the wonders of Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn.”

The rest of the students grumble and groan quietly in discontent, while Lance manages a small grin as he takes a seat, “My two favorite boys in the literary world, Mr. Smythe.”

“Of course!”  The teacher returned enthusiastically, taking the class on a whirlwind of the history behind Mark Twain, the two novels, and the ins and outs of both stories for the next hour.  Mr. Smythe was an animated man, and that fact didn’t fail to show through his teaching as well. The man seemed incredibly hyped up about the wild adventures of two young boys living in the South, with the hastily written notes on the board and arms flying as he spoke as evidence.  

Lance gets lost in the daydream of having a carefree expedition with his closest friends, analyzing the character development occurring throughout the book, and learning about the author that wrote it.

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After the encounter with Lotor, Lance’s day continues without a hitch, as he trudges from English class to calculus, where he furiously copies down notes as Mr. Sven’s fast paced teachings gets drilled into his brain.

By the time he makes his way to the senior parking lot behind the school, Lance’s brain feels like it’s been fried to pieces.  He makes a mental to-do list for the rest of the day, because as tired as he is now, he still has PE as his last class of the day when he gets back from lunch, and then soccer practice until 4 after that.  He all but groans at the prospect of not being able to go home after a tiring school day, but stay for two hours after. The Altea Soccer team logo sits proudly on his chest as a reminder of why he joined the team, but it still sucked.

He gets pulled out of his thoughts when a heavy weight jumps on his back from behind, earning a loud yelp from Lance.  Craning his head back, the familiar sight of brown bedhead gets shoved into his field of vision. “Pidge, what the hell!”

The younger girl holds onto Lance by the neck, her arms and body wrapping around him like vines.  It was truly a feat, really, being that she _still_ managed to hang on despite Lance’s bag resting on his back.  “If Shiro doesn’t take us to a decent place to eat, I’m blaming you today.”  She states simply, though the playfulness in her tone was undeniable.

Beside him, Hunk appears, an easy grin on his face as he snaps a photo of the conjoined pair of friends on his phone.  “Yeah, where are we going anyway?”

“I’m not really sure?  But I know Shiro will ask us all where we want to go anyway.”  Lance responds, his hands going up to hold onto Pidge by the arms hung around his shoulders.  Pidge drops herself to the ground, landing on her feet lightly as she falls in step with her two taller friends.

The trio make it to Shiro’s black Toyota, its owner standing nearby with — oh _hey_ , Lance notices — a head of long, silver hair belonging to Allura de Altea.  She was a well-known senior in the school, with her father being Principal Alfor and all.  Their family founded Altea High School generations ago, and it just so happened that Principal Alfor got put in charge a couple years before his daughter transferred from the town’s private academy last year.  Of course, with Shiro being captain of the baseball team and Allura being the current top of her class, Lance thinks the two would make the greatest power couple Altea High as ever heard of. If Shiro ever musters up the courage to ask her out, at least.  But, Lance settles with the fact that the two were even having lunch together to begin with.

Lance gives Shiro a wave, the black and white haired senior responding the same way once their eyes meet.

“Hey,”  Shiro greets the threesome of juniors.  Pidge and Hunk knew Shiro through Lance and the popularity of the baseball team, and the elder teen knew of the younger juniors through his Cuban friend’s frequent hang outs at the end of the street. Shiro had definitely seen a couple of the many failed (and some successful) science experiments that occurred at the back of Lance’s house whenever the trio gathered together.

Once he gets a returning chorus of greetings, he takes the time to introduce the student standing beside him.  “This is Allura. Allura, meet Lance, Pidge, and Hunk.”

Although Lance already knew who she was and vice versa, the girl takes a moment to give hello’s to all three of them.  “Nice to meet you all.” she says with a friendly smile. Despite the fact that three juniors were joining her for lunch, she didn’t seem the slightest bit fazed.  Lance thinks she’s definitely a keeper.

“So, who else are we waiting on?” Lance asks curiously, noticing the lack of students piling into the car next to them.

“Keith,”  Shiro replies with a sigh, though he doesn’t seem all too annoyed with his brother’s tardiness.  “He should be coming out any minute now.”

Lance’s eyes widen at the name, “Keith?  I just saw him in my calc class.”

As the saying goes, speak of the devil and he shall appear.  From behind, Keith shows up with his bag slung over one shoulder, his eyes showing the surprise that went along with seeing a group of people waiting by your brother.  He was sporting the same jacket Lance was, the Altea Soccer symbol glaringly pristine against Keith’s red version of the garment, matched with a plain white v-neck and solid black sports shorts.

Lance’s eyes narrow at the other boy, a slight twinge of distaste appearing on his features until it washes away just as quickly as it came.  He wasn’t as comfortable with Keith as he was with Shiro, but now wasn’t the time or the place to ruin the amicable mood with his own sour feelings, Lance thinks.  

“Shiro…?”  Keith questions warily as he eyes the three newcomers.

“Hey,”  Shiro greets nonchalantly, already sensing the waves uneasiness emanating from his younger sibling.  “Some of the people in your class are joining us for lunch today. You already know Lance. And these are his two friends, Pidge and Hunk.”

Lance’s friends give him a quick “yo” as a response.  Keith mumbles a curt “hello,” but Shiro is already opening the doors to his car before the conversation is forced to develop any further.

The fact that they were trying to squeeze six people into a four seater car definitely wasn’t unheard of, but was made all the more awkward when piling in four juniors in the back, with one of them being almost a complete stranger to the other three.  As per the universal rule™, the youngest sits in the middle — or in this case, the two youngest — which meant that Pidge was stuck sitting on Lance’s lap while he was subsequently squished between Hunk and Keith. As his shoulders are pushed against the other two’s, Lance couldn’t help but feel the slightest twinge of jealousy for Shiro and Allura, who seemed perfectly comfortable seated up front.  Well, he couldn’t complain, since his friends rarely ever got the luxury to eat off campus anyway.

Juniors and seniors had the same lunch time allotted and were both offered off campus privileges, however, the lack of licenses and cars in the junior class usually forced them to stay in the school cafeteria.  Unless, of course, you have friends in the senior class, in which Shiro came into the picture.

“So,” Allura starts, as Shiro pulls out of his space and into the hellhole that was the senior parking lot during lunch hour, “How’s everyone’s day going..?”  

The idea of Allura trying to alleviate the awkwardness more than it had already manifested was heartwarming to Lance, truly.  It was like how his mom has forced Lance and Shiro to hang out once she found the boy playing all by himself in his own backyard one day while she was gardening.  It was painfully awkward the first few minutes, but within the hour the two had clicked immediately. Of course, high school was definitely different than his toddler days.

Hunk, being the sweetheart that he is, decides to take pity on Allura and gives her a pleasant answer, “Pretty good so far, actually.  Pidge and I managed to make it through our first calc class without pulling our hair out.”

Shiro and Allura both crack a smile at that, reminiscing in their days back in that same calculus classroom a year ago.  Because that was the highest mathematics class they could go in the calculus region, the two had switched to statistics in their senior year.  Nevertheless, they could both relate, and Shiro adds in, “That’s certainly a feat. Geez, I remember when Mr. Zar would drill all the formulas into our heads by giving us three minute quizzes.”

“Only three minutes?” Lance asks in disbelief.  His teachers gave him the whole class period for a test, and he was still stressed after spending over an hour looking over every problem.  Then again, his brain wasn’t wired for numbers as the other four was.

“Three!”  Allura laughs, although a year ago she was on the verge of pulling her own hair out as well.  “Good job though, you two, it’s definitely a class you should be proud to be in.”

Pidge shrugs, followed by a bashful smile from Hunk.  Lance takes this moment to take a jab at Pidge’s side, his finger going in to poke her stomach, and laughs when the younger teen yelps in discomfort.

“Jesus christ, Lance—” Pidge hisses, turning her body around to try and swat Lance in the face.  When the other boy dodges her attacks with his arm, she takes a different route. Instead, she decides to recline further back into her human seat, pressing all her weight onto Lance’s chest and making extra certain that her wild, untamed hair was stuffed into the other boy’s face.

Her actions are rewarded with protesting cries from the older teen, and chuckles from the rest of the car’s inhabitants.  

When the laughter dies down and Lance finally gives into his self-inflicted fate, which meant he sunk down deeper in his seat, pulling Pidge along with him although the other girl didn’t quite mind it as much as he did, Shiro cuts through the brief moment of silence.

“‘So Keith, what kept you so long earlier?”

The boy in question pulls himself out of his own little world, previously looking out the window with his chin in hand like some sort of emo music video, Lance notes, “Huh?  Oh,” Keith begins, the slightest hints of pink spreading over his cheeks once he notices that Pidge and Lance were looking at him, and even Shiro and Allura through the rearview mirror.  “I was changing into these clothes.”

Lance knew that they both had soccer practice after school today, and also shared the same gym class right before but with different teachers, but the attire didn’t seem all too necessary now, especially during lunch.  Lance peers up at him from his position with an inquisitive look, “We could’ve changed in the locker rooms during gym, dude.”

Keith’s gaze falls on Lance as the other boy gives him a nonchalant shrug of the shoulders, “I’d rather not.”

“Yeah,” Shiro adds, “He doesn’t want anyone seeing his batman underwear he’s had since freshman year.”  

Everyone in the car snickers at that, with Keith’s face flushing fully pink and Shiro’s eyes crinkling in the corners at the expense of his brother’s embarrassment.

.

.

.

The rest of lunch passes with the same amiable, care-free environment as the car ride, much to Lance’s delight.  He didn’t go out to lunch often, but he was glad that one of the first experiences with all of his friends (plus two new ones) was a pleasant one.

They had all decided on going to Chick-fil-a, because, honestly, who _doesn’t_ love that place?  Besides Pidge, who has been vegetarian her whole life, who opted for a sad, sad lunch with a singular order of waffle fries.  Feeling pity for her, Lance got her a milkshake to compliment her sandwich-less meal. It was only after their order that Allura found on Google that there was, in fact, a vegetarian — vegan, even — option called the Cool Wrap on the menu.  They all decided that would be saved for a future excursion during lunch.

While the rest of the group seated themselves at the table, Lance excused himself to the bathroom to wash his hands.  If he knew himself well, his hands were sweating profusely while copying notes for math class, and he didn’t want to contaminate his beautifully delicious burger.

After he turns off the sink, he gets a vibration from his phone sitting in his back pants pocket, and pulls it out to take a look before returning to his friends.  His eyes brighten instantly at the sight of the familiar notification _New Email._

* * *

 

 _To:_ [ _hipsdontlie28@gmail.com_ ](mailto:hipsdontlie28@gmail.com)

_From:_ [ _redlion1023@gmail.com_ ](mailto:redlion1023@gmail.com)

_September 5th, 2018  12:02PM_

_Subject: No Nacho Friday for me_

_Blue, thanks for your encouraging words last night.  I managed to go through a couple pages of notes before I crashed.  My brother found me slumped over my textbooks this morning, and it’s safe to say that last night’s position wasn’t ideal for my neck today, it hurts like hell._

_I know you were looking forward to Nacho Friday today, but it sucks I can’t share the excitement with you, I got pulled along with some friends to eat out.  I hope you enjoy the wonders of fake Americanized school lunches._

_Sad but grateful for my stomach to be missing out on lunch,_

_Red_

* * *

 

 _To:_ [ _redlion1023@gmail.com_ ](mailto:redlion1023@gmail.com)

_From:_ [ _hipsdontlie28@gmail.com_ ](mailto:hipsdontlie28@gmail.com)

_September 5th, 2018 12:06PM_

_Subject: Re: No Nacho Friday for me_

_Yikes, I can feel your neck pain from here.  Glad you got some good studying done though!!  I was late to school today too, though it was because I stayed up too late watching Netflix, lol.  Not exactly the same situation here, but kinda close, right? Jk jk, I hope your neck feels better throughout the day, do some stretches!!_

_As excited as I was yesterday about Nacho Friday (ugh, so good, don’t you dare shade on the best meal in the school), I’m out with some people now too so no “fake Americanized school lunch” for me :,(_

_Do you have any plans tonight??  Are you thinking about going to the football game?_

_Fully sad to be missing nachos,_

_Blue_

* * *

Typing out the last words of his message, Lance presses send with a warm feeling in his chest before walking out to meet his friends.  A part of him was grateful that he had gotten the message while other people weren’t around, lessening the questioning looks of his friends and increasing the chances of Lance replying back in a timely manner, rather than waiting until he was within the safety of his own room when he got home.

The message made him happy for multiple reasons though, including the important fact that Red had gone off campus for lunch today too.  That meant that they _had_ to have crossed paths in the senior lot at least, right?  Of course, there was always the possibility that he could have gone out through the junior lot, but the chances were slim being that there was less than 10 cars parked there this morning, as Lance saw through his chemistry class’s window.

Of course, being in the same school, him and Red must have walked passed each other at least a couple times this school year already without knowing one another.  But the prospect of knowing _for sure_ that they walked past each other while heading out today made Lance’s heart beat just a little bit faster than normal.

Lance wills himself to stop thinking about the boy on the other side of the screen and focus on the people that were here, right in front of him.  When his oceanic blues scan the bustling busy restaurant for familiar heads, he sees the group seated in the corner waiting for him with their trays of food.

.

.

.

What Lance didn’t see was a particular raven haired boy, sitting in a plastic seat of a fast food restaurant, discreetly typing up the first email message of the day under the table in attempts to hide it from his friends ten minutes before.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh there it is!! I hope you guys enjoyed reading this!! It's definitely going to be a lengthy, long burn fic. For now I'm thinking around 10 chapters, with more character development focused around Lance/Keith/Shiro. Now that Shiro is revealed as canonically LGBT, I'll definitely try my hardest to incorporate that into the story, however, I want to stick with my original vision so I don't want to change it too much based on this new info from Lauren. One day tho, I'll write a Shadam (is that what we're calling it) fic, one day.
> 
> There is more to come! SOOOO much more, I have so many things planned, stick around and subscribe to the story if you wanna find out! I changed a couple things in the first two chapters, mostly bc I had forgotten what I wrote and contradicted myself, oops lol. I have an ongoing document of all my character notes/plot now, so hopefully that'll be better going forward!
> 
> If you want to scream more about Voltron or this fic with me, don't be afraid to check me out on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/yumikocos) so we can talk about it :)
> 
> Tell me what you think in the comments, your kudos and stuff motivates me even more to write write write!! Until next time!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! I'm a sucker for internet friends, high school AUs, and klance. As soon as I read this book I KNEW I had to write Simon as Lance. Some people might think Bluegreen would've been better for Lance, but it didn't match his personality as well. I hope you enjoyed, please tell me what you think!
> 
> If you want to scream more about Love Simon with me, don't be afraid to check me out on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/yumikocos) so we can talk about it :)


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